Debts Paid
by Angelia Dark
Summary: Sequel to 'What's Owed'. Three years after Stan's disappearance, oddities begin acting up in Gravity Falls, strange even by the town's standards. Mabel finds herself straining to keep Stan's secret as things become more dangerous, and Ford and Dipper begin having nightmares about the Rift and Stan's fate, begging the question 'is this mystery worth solving'
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Mabel Pines stared out the window of the bus, practically jumping in her seat as the _Welcome to Gravity Falls_ sign came into view and was passed, the town up ahead just a mile away. She reached up and tugged the bus window down, sticking her head out like a dog and inhaling deeply. "HELLOOOOOOOO, GRAVITY FALLS!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Dipper snorted, tugging her back in before the bus driver decided to blacklist them again. "Every year, Mabel," he said, smiling. "I'm pretty sure Gravity Falls knows your entrance by heart by now."

Mabel plopped back in the seat, beaming. "Still cant hurt to remind 'em that a couple of Pines are about to turn this place up!" she retorted. Dipper reached up to put the window back up, but Mabel batted his hands away. "Leave it down. I like the smell."

"Of what, pines?" he asked, but sat back anyway, enjoying the breeze that wafted in. He closed his eyes, smiling softly as he was greeted with the familiar scent of pine oil and leather. He swore up and down that Gravity Falls smelled like the aftershave that was still stashed away in the Shack, but he didn't really want to sound like a loon, so he never really said as much.

He had a feeling Mabel knew, though. She always kept the window open in the attic whenever they stayed here for the summer.

The bus depot came into view, and he gathered up his carry-on bag, unable to keep the smile of giddiness off his face when he saw the familiar El Diablo in the parking lot. The bus barely came to a stop before Mabel launched herself over Dipper, down the aisle, and out the doors, diving arms-first into her Grunkle's hold.

Stanford caught her, more than prepared by this point, laughing. "You've got to find another greeting, sweetie," he said, hugging her. "Don't know if my body can handle being dive-bombed anymore."

Mabel scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Puh-leeze, you're still, like 90% muscle." She poked his bicep to emphasize her point, then his stomach as an afterthought. "Then again, might wanna hike that down to 85% now…"

Ford ruffled her hair before hugging Dipper tightly. "It's good to see you kids again," he said. "…Sort of missing having to bend down to hug you now. You're both shooting up like weeds!"

Dipper beamed, adjusting his hat. "Hey, better than having to jump just to reach your shoulder," he said, grabbing his bags. "Even better that I'm finally taller than Mabel."

"Laugh it up, broseph," Mabel said, grabbing all of her bags in one go. "I can still bench-press you and then some." She gave his shoulder a playful nudge as she carried her things to the car, putting them into the trunk before ducking into the backseat of the car.

Ford opened the driver's side door, pausing before tossing Dipper the keys. "Want to drive us home, Dipper?" he asked. Dipper stared at the keys almost reverently.

"…you really want me to?" he asked, smiling as he eyed the driver's seat of his Grunkle's prized El Diablo. Ford smiled, walking around to get into the passenger seat.

"You're going to be sixteen at the end of the summer," he replied, getting in and buckling up. "I think you'll be fine." He sat back as Dipper got in the driver's seat and started up the car before driving down the familiar road to their home away from home.


	2. Chapter 1

Dipper got out of the car and stretched, smiling at the old house in front of him. "Home sweet home," he said, glancing it over. "Oh hey, you finally got the **S** to stay up!"

Ford snorted, helping Mabel get the bags out of the trunk. "Turns out alien adhesive can do more than weld metal together," he replied. Mabel pouted.

"Boo, I liked the crooked **S**. It had character!" she retorted, hurrying inside as Dipper and Ford trailed behind at a slower pace.

"…So, is Soos coming back this year?" Dipper asked, grabbing his bag. Ford smiled sadly.

"Probably not until August," he answered. "Melody's family is having one event after the other, and she wants to show him off for all of them." He smiled. "But he'll be back in time for your birthday."

"That's alright," Dipper said, heading inside. "Pretty sure Mabel and her duct tape can help fix anything."

"Oh, yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dipper!"

Dipper jumped, looking up and seeing Wendy leaning against the counter. "Wendy!" he cried, rushing over and hugging her. "I thought you were going to college!"

"I am, dum-dum," Wendy replied, bopping the brim of his hand down. "Not until September, though. Thought I'd give this place one more summer before I officially begin my college career. And a little extra money saved up never hurt anyone."

Dipper beamed, hugging her again. "Well that's good," he said. "I was starting to think the whole gang was moving on all at once."

Wendy shrugged. "It happens," she replied. "It's pretty much just me staying in Gravity Falls this summer. Makes me happy you and Mabel come around to make it interesting."

"Not TOO interesting," Ford muttered. "The last thing this place needs is ANOTHER griffon tearing the place up looking for her eggs."

Mabel rooted through the ice cream bin. "…I thought they were dinosaur eggs," she pouted.

"Or when you incited a war between the gnomes and the brownies."

"Not my fault they cant take 'no' for an answer! I am NOBODY'S QUEEN BUT MY OWN!"

"When you bought Waddles a girlfriend."

"Hey, Waddles Jr. Numbers 1-5 were ADORABLE!"

"That OTHER D&D& More D incident—"

"Yeah, that one was my bad, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said, blushing. "And I cleaned the mess up, didn't I?" He ducked when Ford swatted at his head, snickering.

"Point is, I'm going to start taking the remodeling and construction fees out of your allowance this year, so if you HAVE to summon eldritch abominations, do it outside the property line," Ford said, crossing his arms, then turning to Wendy. "Same goes for your paycheck, Wendy. No matter what they're doing, you're ALWAYS two steps behind with the camera."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Aye aye, Boss," she replied, saluting sarcastically. "I'll play boring old responsible adult this year, don't you fret your fez about it."

"I'd fire all of you if I could," Ford muttered before clapping his hands. "Alright, kids, unpack and hurry down for dinner, I closed the Shack today for you guys, and we have a lot to do before it reopens tomorrow!"

Mabel shoved the rest of her popsicle into her mouth before grabbing her bags and bolting upstairs to the attic. Dipper did the same, but took his bags to the bedroom on the second floor, which used to be Stanley's room. Wendy followed to help before she had to leave for her own home.

Ford sighed, smiling softly as he headed into the kitchen to start making dinner, glancing upward every so often when he heard the thumps of the kids unpacking and shouting at each other up and down the stairs about how they had packed away something in the others' bag by accident.

It was so good to have them back, he thought. The Shack was always much too quiet during the school year when they were gone. It made him want to rethink his old idea of keeping them around and being their teacher himself…but he never fully contemplated that thought. They were still growing up, and had much to see and do before they committed to one single thing.

And oh, how they were growing up right in front of him. Both seemed to be inheriting the Pines family bulk and bone structure, and he was tickled pink when he saw that Mabel's baby fat had faded somewhat, showing that she had developed a slight cleft in her chin much like his own. Since her haircut, she also had his birdlike upward lift to his hair hair—'floop', she called it. Her build was like Stanley's though; athletic, but soft. It wasn't very noticeable since she still wore her sweaters religiously, but it was obvious in the pictures she took of her amateur kickboxing meets.

Dipper, on the other hand, had sharper edges to his growth. He was taller than Mabel now, and had broader shoulders, but his build was lean, albeit by no means scrawny. Then again, Ford couldn't recall a time where ANY Pines, present or past, turned out scrawny past puberty. Dipper's hair remained an untamable mess kept under a hat of some sort—more often than naught his blue and white trucker hat—and all his reading finally had him procuring glasses. Honestly, with his broad shoulders, glasses, and sharpened jawline from the loss of baby fat, he looked so much like Stanley it was unreal.

Ford was true to his word in promising Stanley that he would reconnect with his family. He got to know Shermy's son and found him to be a kind, likeable man, if not a bit of a workaholic. His wife was the 'supermom' type, and Ford saw where Mabel got most of her personality from. She encouraged anything her kids wanted to do, and didn't think twice about Mabel taking kickboxing lessons out of the blue, or Dipper needing a ride to a haunted area for some ghost footage.

Through webcam, phone calls, and IMs, he hadn't missed a thing in the twins' lives between visits. His first Christmas with the family was so warm and comforting, he almost forgot that it was his first family visit outside the twins and his brother. His nephew didn't seem to notice any difference between him and Stanley, and if he did, he didn't seem to care. It was fantastic meeting them, and after things had settled down, Dipper and Mabel would break out the photo album and catch him up on some family history.

He learned that Stanley had reached out to the family when Shermy suffered a stroke and helped take care of his wife and son while he recovered. After the initial hurt of not having been around died down, everyone had just assumed 'Stanford' had gone a little cuckoo bananas with all his paranormal research and the news of his brother 'dying', and settled down to the life of an eccentric.

Naturally, there were the clucked tongues from the family, of how 'Stanford' had thrown away all that talent and grant money to open a tourist trap of all things, but to Shermy's side of the family, there was no more favored relative.

Ford smiled as he looked through the album, seeing pictures of Stanley always being tailed by Shermy's boy, a wonderful first-generation throwback to the pictures in Mabel's scrapbook. Even in candids, Stanley stood out in the pictures, whether he was in the background, or just being caught off-guard. There were some holiday pictures taken of the Shack, where family had been brought up to visit.

It had never occurred to Ford that there would be family in his home aside from the twins that past summer, but apparently, Christmas holidays at the Shack became almost tradition. It was a tradition that died down after Dipper and Mabel's father went to college, but even then, Stanley continued to be a part of his family's lives.

He was there for graduations, marriages, and Ford almost cried when he found a picture of Stanley holding Dipper and Mabel the day they were born. The look of absolute, unbridled adoration at seeing a new pair of twins for the Pines family on Stanley's face was almost too much to bear.

Stanley had loved Dipper and Mabel before they even knew who he was.

Dipper made a somber comment about how Stanley would visit for holidays and send them gifts on their birthdays and for Christmas, but they never really got to know him until that past summer.

Just a little over a month and a half…that was all they truly had with him.

The rest of the visit had been a little somber after that, and Ford returned back to Gravity Falls with much to think about…

The sound of stampeding teenagers diverged him from memory lane, and he smiled, setting the food out on the table. "You two ready to help me with work tomorrow?" he asked as they sat down and started piling onto their plates.

"Sure am!" Mabel chirped. "I've got sales, called it!"

"Aw, no fair!" Dipper huffed. "You got sales first LAST time! YOU get clean-up!"

"You've just got to be quicker on the draw, bro-bro," Mabel replied unapologetically. "I'll trade you sales tomorrow for dishes tonight."

"…." Dipper just stuffed his mouth with food, saying nothing.

Ford smiled as he listened to the twins' banter. Oh yes. It was good to be summer again.

* * *

Later that night, after the twins had gone to bed, Ford quietly slipped out of his room and to the vending machine, tapping in the code and being grateful that he had tweaked it a bit so it opened more quietly. With Dipper just one floor up instead of two, he didn't want to risk waking him up.

He took the elevator to the second-level basement, stepping out into his study, which had some semblance of organization at last. Gone was the Cipher paraphernalia, and in its place were several of his brother's things, as well as an in-progress photo collage on a large cork board, almost all of them every decent picture of his brother he was able to collect or copy.

It served as a reminder of his goals, to keep strong with the charade he was playing. His lips twitched at Soos's description of it: _'You pretending to be Stan pretending to be you'_. It summed it up pretty nicely.

He sat down at his desk, taking out Journal 4, which, even almost three years in the making, was still only half-filled. Progress in this mission of his was slow; slower than anything he'd encountered.

But he refused to give up. Stanley hadn't given up on him, and Ford felt he owed it to his brother to keep going. To find SOME answer, ANY answer.

He unscrewed his thermos and took a long sip, prepping himself for the few hours he set aside for this before he had work in the morning.

* * *

Dipper stared quietly up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, wracking his mind as to WHY for a few moments before finally realizing why. He rubbed his eyes, sighing as he slipped out of the bed and crept into the bathroom, leaning down to open up the cabinet under the sink and taking a bottle out, holding it tightly as he slipped back to bed.

He unscrewed the cap and set it on the bedside table before closing his eyes, at last able to drift off to sleep to the pine oil and leather scent he'd come to know and be comforted by.

* * *

Up in the attic, Mabel laid silent until she couldn't hear so much as a creak in the old boards, slipping out of bed and walking over to the window, opening it and breathing in the sweet summer air. She smiled up at the sky, seeing the moon was full tonight, and picked up a girly pink plastic-lock diary, opening it as she sat on the windowsill.

"Hey, Grunkle Stan," she greeted to the air, keeping her voice conversational, but quiet as she opened the diary. "Time for some catch-up! Tonight's entries brought to you by months September through October…"

She smiled as she talked in, feeling a sense of contentment as a breeze cooled the night air, the scent of pine oil and leather being carried with it.


	3. Chapter 2

Ford was up earlier than normal, wanting to get the kids up, fed, and situated for work as a start of the routine they fell into two years ago. It was always the first day back that was slow, and Ford figured it was both road lag and emotions being resurfaced that made them want to sleep in.

Even so, the show had to go on.

Ford fixed up his clothing before picking up the fez Mabel made for him two years ago and putting it on, checking for the thousandth time that the image was good, even though it had stayed the same a thousand times before, back to the first day two years ago.

He had promised so much, to both Stanley and the kids, and seeing more about Stanley's impact on his own name filled him with a vigor and determination he never really thought he could have since his brother's leaving.

The first thing he did was unpack everything from the boxes in Stanley's office and put them back. He covered the desk with the Shack's finance and record books, and a few from Stanley's personal collection ("The Nuances of Fraud", "The Business of Business", and what appeared to be a personal publication of "Scams A-Z"). He dug out a box of old tapes and began watching them intently, taking down some notes and underlining important know-hows.

On the Saturday after arriving home, he called Wendy and Soos and asked them if they could help him prepare to pull off his first scam.

Just before spring, Dipper and Mabel almost scared their parents to death screaming when they got a letter in the mail from Ford, which contained the usual back-and-forth exchanges, as well as a flyer detailing the reopening of the Mystery Shack that summer.

Ford's lips twitched, thinking of the phone call he received that day, both twins screaming and freaking out at the same time, unable to catch a sentence between them. After they settled down, he told them that no, Mabel, it wasn't an April Fool's joke, and yes, Dipper, he was 110% serious.

They got a better chance to talk it over later that night in Dipper's room over the webcam, after their parents had gone to bed. Not only was it a way to keep some income in the house and suspicion off his tail, but it was also a great homage to Stanley. His brother had created something wonderful that had lasted thirty years, and it would be an insult to just end it. And besides, Ford had some plans to make it a little better, by adding just a touch more supernatural to it; not enough to cause panic, but just enough to keep it really interesting.

Wendy and Soos, as the two people in Gravity Falls who knew Stanley best, coached him almost to the point of exhaustion on how to pull off Stan's persona and conman showmanship. It was emotionally taxing for the most part, but Soos and Wendy told him 'you don't have to BE Stan all the time, just act his part'. Although the lines might have blurred somewhat over the years, Stan's persona and true self were still two separate people.

He could do this. If Stanley could find a perfect balance between work, family, social life, and secret ambition to open a trans-universal gateway, then he could do this.

Finally, Soos and Wendy deemed him ready, and his first tour took place a week before the twins were set to arrive.

Everything went without a hitch. He was flashy, he was showy, he was dramatic, and the cash jar was filled to the brim.

After the last bus left and the OPEN sign was turned to CLOSED, he collapsed on the floor and wept until he couldn't move. He didn't know how he had done that, so perfectly with so straight a face, without faltering ONCE. Beginner's luck, a fluke, SOMETHING…he was certain he wouldn't be able to do it again.

But he did. Perfectly. Every day, like a switch was flipping, he was Stan Pines, Mr. Mystery, and no one but Wendy and Soos were the wiser. It wasn't until the sign was flipped (and Sundays and Mondays off) that he was Ford Pines again.

It was easy to blur those lines, come to find, even though he was playing Stanley's part with his own name. It was made more obvious when Wendy would call him 'Stan', even outside of work. Sometimes Dipper would slip and call him Grunkle Stan. Oddly enough, though, Mabel never made that mistake.

Still, it was something that he had finally developed some comfort in doing. He sometimes got through it, thinking of it like a social science experiment, and found that yes, 'fake it 'till you make it' WAS scientifically probable.

When Dipper and Mabel came back for that second summer, he had a solid routine down pat. He wasn't offended when the twins stayed upstairs for the first week. It was everything HE could do not to completely lose it the first few days, after all. But soon, Mabel came down and helped Wendy with the gift shop. Dipper followed a couple days later and helped with arrangement and tidy-up. Mabel cinched the acceptance of the situation with a big Mystery Shack Family photo.

After that, things got better. He made it clear that he wasn't trying to replace Stanley—familial-wise, anyway—and that he wouldn't make the twins be a part of it if they didn't want to. Both insisted that they DID want to help keep the Shack up and running, and Mabel commented that one day, she'd like to take it over.

It was an admittedly adorable thought, but Ford noticed that Mabel took her Mystery Shack duties extremely seriously. She even helped with the tours, dressing up for the part and everything, and more than once, he'd caught her in the office reading through business books and double-checking the finance and expense reports.

Inwardly, though Ford thought it was a nice idea to keep the Shack in the family, he somewhat hoped she would find another career interest and move on. Mabel was a grab-bag of potential, and he didn't want her to just SETTLE for running a tourist trap right out of high school. But she did it with such passion that even some of the tourists and locals commented on her 'going into the family business'.

The twins were turning sixteen this year…perhaps it was time he sat them down and talked to them about their future plans…

* * *

Dipper quietly contemplated Journal 3 during the mid-noon break, reclining back on the roof space and tugging the brim of his hat lower to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. No matter what page he managed to start on, he always sifted back to a page near the back that had but one line written.

 **DO NOT EVER GO INTO THE FOREST DURING THE NEW MOON**

Even among everything his Grunkle Stan had given him for his thirteenth birthday, not one of them had any other mention of this last note given. Dipper still pored over every piece of that gift, for SOME clue, SOME mention, but there was nothing.

He was under no delusions about his craving for knowledge. It got him into trouble, consumed him to the point of obsession sometimes. When it was something personal, the craving only intensified, and THIS was personal. Almost three years ago, his great-uncle vanished without a trace, and left this message behind. It was a clear message with no context, but it was meant to be heeded.

More than once, he wanted to disobey the message, just to sate his curiosity, but he never got up the nerve to go through with it. Last year, he almost did it. The last new moon of the summer, and he was awake, dressed, and looking out the window of the gift shop door. His hand was on the doorknob, it was turning slowly…

…and the next thing he knew, he was blinking awake in his bed, still fully clothed, with no recollection past about to open the door.

He theorized that perhaps his nerves had been shot so bad he blanked out and went back to bed, but this was Gravity Falls he was talking about here. Something made him stop and go back to his room, and no matter how hard he racked his memory, there was no filling in the blanks. Absolutely NOTHING between about to open that door, and waking up. Not even so much as a dream.

So most sane people, it should have been a clear indication that it was a warning, a sign to not attempt it again. But here he was, back for another summer, and two weeks until the next new moon. He had two shots at this, maybe three this year, but that was cutting it close. The last new moon of the summer was the week before their birthday, and he wanted to know. He HAD to know what happened to his Grunkle Stan.

"Heya, Dip-dop!"

Puberty be damned, Dipper's voice still cracked when he yelped, the journal almost going airborne when Mabel poked at his side and shocked him out of his musings. He scrambled to keep a hold of the journal, slamming it shut and holding it to him, trying to make his heart rate go back to normal.

"Mabel, what the heck!?" he gasped. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Mabel plopped down next to him, snorting. "'Almost' being the keyword," she retorted, poking his cheek. "So whatcha doing?"

Dipper sighed, leaning back against the roof, tucking the brim of his hat as low as it would go without pressing too hard against his glasses. "…Just thinking," he replied, drumming his fingers over the journal's cover. Mabel tucked her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on them.

"About what?"

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "…do you ever think about where Grunkle Stan went?" he asked. He was met with more silence, inwardly cursing himself. Of COURSE Mabel would wonder. It was glaringly obvious that Mabel and Grunkle Stan had a different bond that Dipper didn't have with their great-uncle.

At first, he felt a bit of jealousy and indignation about it, but once Grunkle Ford came into the picture, he began to understand. Mabel and Stan had loud, boisterous, magnetic personalities that were overwhelming to most other people, making it hard to create bonds that meant something.

After seeing Mabel with Grenda and Candy, Dipper realized that Mabel didn't have any really good friends back home that went beyond the school walls. While Mabel was good with people and MAKING friends, her personality made it difficult to KEEP friends that weren't on the same wavelength as her. Grenda was loud and boisterous. Candy was weird and accepting of many personality types.

And Grunkle Stan was an almost identical match to Mabel's wavelength. He was loud, personable, and unapologetically weird, sometimes going too far with an insane concept, but had a heart bigger than the ocean that ran twice as deep. Same as Mabel sometimes making him put away his books and drag him to school social functions and parties, Stan gave him character-building work to do. He used to feel indignant about it, until later on that first summer, when he felt himself backing down less, standing up for himself more, and even throwing a few decent punches at Gideon.

Heck, looking back on it, Grunkle Stan had been teaching Mabel a few things too. Mabel liked to think the best of people WAY too much, and it sometimes contributed to self-destructive naiveté. Teaching Mabel cheats, scams, and trickery certainly gave her a better judge of character…

"I think you should leave it alone, Dipper."

Mabel answering pulled him back to reality again, looking up to see her serious face. She hugged her knees tightly, her eyes almost haunted as she glanced in the direction of the forest. "…Some mysteries aren't worth solving," she said. "I couldn't bear it if you or Grunkle Ford were lost too." She looked over at him, her eyes narrowing. "…Whatever you're thinking, don't do it," she added. "I'm not too old to tattle on you, you know."

Dipper huffed, but nodded, glancing off at the woods too. "I'm not going anywhere, Mabel," he said. "And neither is Grunkle Ford. You don't have to worry."

But she did, she thought as she rested her chin on her arms. Grunkle Stan said so himself. Her brother and his both obsessed over things way too much, and promises or not, they wouldn't stop until they found him.

"Come on!" she said suddenly, jumping to her feet and holding her hand out. "Enough sad sappiness, it's our first official day of summer, and we've got summer stuff to do! So let's go, or I'm throwing balloons filled with toilet water at you until we do!"

Dipper snorted, taking her hand and hoisting himself up. "Honestly, Mabel, we're almost sixteen, aren't we too old for balloon fights with gross stuff inside?" he asked, heading to the roof door.

"Psh, no," Mabel retorted. "If anything, I should fill them with grosser stuff, since you're old enough to handle it. Like maybe deodorant since you don't seem to know what it's for!" She dodged a swipe her way and headed down to the gift shop, rushing out past Ford. "Grunkle Ford we're going into town to have fun don't wait up we'll be back before dark gotta go before you process this sentence okay byyyyye!"

Dipper hung back a few beats to translate. "We're just running to town for a bit, we'll be back by dinner!" He ran faster to catch up to Mabel.

"Eh, I say let 'em go," Wendy said, cracking open a soda can. "They don't have enough epic summer adventures as it is."

Ford snorted, nodding. "As long as they're happy," he replied, checking his watch. "Next bus arrives in ten, everything set up?"

"You've got it, boss," Wendy said, heading inside. Ford took a deep breath and sighed almost contently, looking out at the forest. Let the kids have the adventures, he thought to himself. As far as he was concerned, his place was here until he solved the mystery to where his brother was.


	4. Chapter 3

Dipper reclined back in the passenger seat of Wendy's truck, enjoying the evening air as Wendy cruised along the empty roads in Gravity Falls. They had gone out for tacos with Wendy's brothers, who were enjoying the bed of the truck, and Wendy suggested a ride on the dirt road to 'aid the digestion'.

So far, one of the Corduroy boys had puked, so it wasn't helping THAT much.

It had been fun, getting to know the rest of the Corduroys the past couple of years. Luke, the oldest, had his dad's overactive pituitary gland that made him much bigger than he was comfortable with. He was pretty relaxed and enjoyed fishing. The middle boy Hank was the most boisterous, always hollering on about SOMETHING, and was the only Corduroy who could out-climb Wendy. Dan Jr.—or 'Danny' as he preferred to be called—preferred hunting to lumberjacking, and was already proficient in making clothing out of hides.

Dipper had a blast hanging out with them like Mabel did with Candy and Grenda, somewhat happy to have some guy friends, but he still preferred Wendy's company. She had the perfect balance of chill and extremism, which he figured she would need since her father and brothers ran the gamut from one to the other. It was still nice bonding with all four, like he was this evening.

"You excited about college?" Dipper asked, sipping his soda. Wendy smiled, one shoulder raising in a shrug.

"I'm so-so," she replied. "I mean, I'm not ecstatic about it, but I'm not dreading it." She turned onto a road that made a shortcut through the woods. "The whole reason why I'm able to go is because of my lumberjacking scholarship."

"And all that extra tutoring Grunkle Ford gave you."

Wendy grumbled. "Not MY fault he kept insisting on checking my homework," she huffed, but her lips twitched in a smile. "You know he offered to be my college professor all-in-one package, right?"

Dipper sat up. "What? No way!"

"Way. He said I have potential for his paranormal research work too. I kinda felt bad for turning him down." She sighed. "But I've gotta spread my wings a little before deciding something like that. I've been in Gravity Falls all my life, so at LEAST going to college in Washington is getting me out of the state for a while."

"True," Dipper said, finishing off his soda. "I'd figure I'd at least get a degree before settling down ANYWHERE." He rested his arms on the open window panel, leaning his head on them, looking out at the heavy dusk that was settling over the valley. It was wonderful to be back, if even for a few months. Even so, he could easily see himself living here, in the peaceful, weird little town where adventure was plentiful and everything smelled like...

Dipper jerked upright, his nose twitching.

The past couple of summers, without fail, he would swear up and down that the air in Gravity Falls smelled like pine oil and leather, starting at dusk and lasting through dawn. It was dusk now, but the air didn't smell pine oil and leather now.

It smelled stale, still, almost lifeless. Like someone had taken the tranquility of Gravity Falls and left nothing behind. The hairs on his body stood on end, his hands clutching the truck door.

"…We have to get to the Shack," he said lowly, his voice quivering. Wendy frowned, flicking her eyes from Dipper to the road.

"Dipper, what's wrong?"

"Just turn around and drive to the Shack!" Dipper all but shouted, glancing through the back shield window to check and make SURE the guys were alright. They were situated in the bed of the truck, but instead of looking cheerful and rowdy, they looked listless and almost ill. "HURRY!"

"I'm on it!" Wendy said, shifting gears and ignoring the speed limit as she drove in the direction of the Mystery Shack. Dipper whipped out his cell phone, calling up his great-uncle, chewing on his lip hard as it rang and rang without an answer"

"C'mon, c'mon…" he muttered, his fingers tapping impatiently on his thigh. When all the got was voicemail, he punched the 'end call' button with his thumb, sitting back. He wasn't feeling too well himself now, and his hand fumbled to roll up the window.

Wendy managed to make it to the Shack in record time, unbuckling her seatbelt and dashing out of the truck to check on her brothers. Dipper ran inside, shouting the place down for Ford.

Stanford opened the panel behind the vending machine, holding his phone. "Dipper, I've got a missed call from you," he said. "What's all the yelling about?"

"Grunkle Ford, something's wrong!" Dipper cried, grabbing Ford's arm and dragging him outside, where Wendy was helping her brothers out of the bed of the truck. "We were driving, and…and the air felt WRONG…and then we started feeling just…BAD…!"

Ford quickly hoisted up Luke, hurrying for the house. "Inside, quickly!" he called back to Dipper and Wendy. Dipper grabbed Danny while Wendy helped up Hank, pulling them into the Shack and shutting the door behind them.

Wendy sat Hank down on the floor, leaning him back against the checkout counter. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded to no one in particular. Ford settled Luke down, checking the windows carefully.

"I don't know," he replied grimly. "But hopefully the wards around the Shack should keep whatever it is out, so long as it's not a normal sort of airborne illness."

"I don't think it is," Dipper replied, taking off his hat and running a shaking hand through his hair. "I mean…I'm…actually feeling a little better now. And anyway, it just happened all of a sudden." He rubbed his arm, looking out a window. "…the forest just…it started smelling…well, not DEAD, but not ALIVE. We were surrounded by pine trees, but I couldn't even smell them! It was like…something sucked the life out of the air and just left it stale and gross…"

Ford paced around, muttering under his breath as he wracked his memory for perhaps SOME sort of recollection of this happening in the past, but came up with nothing. "…Wendy, I think it's best you and your brothers remain here tonight…at least until I think the danger is passed."

"Thanks, Ford," Wendy replied, hurrying to the drink cooler to get the boys some water. Dipper looked at the other boys, relieved when he saw that they were looking better, but all of them still looked groggy. He wasn't feeling so hot himself, now that he had time to think about it.

Dipper sat back on the floor, becoming aware of his heart racing and head getting fuzzy, like he was having an anxiety attack that was a little late to the party. He groaned, curling his arms around his middle, shaking softly.

"Dipper, are you alright?" Ford asked, putting a hand on Dipper's back. Dipper shook his head, swallowing hard. "Are you going to be sick?" There was a beat of a pause before Dipper's complexion went pale and he nodded vigorously. Ford quickly helped Dipper up and rushed him to his bathroom without a moment to spare, almost holding Dipper up as the boy vomited into the toilet.

The nausea left as soon as it came, and Dipper just sat there, taking gulps of breath to calm down, wondering where THAT had come from. None of the Corduroys had this nauseous feeling, so why him?

He absently recalled a lesson in biology class, where the human body was able to detect the slightest changes of the atmosphere and surroundings, which was why people got the feeling of being watched, or sudden anxiety, or bad vibes from people. Okay, so he sensed how off the forest smelled, but THIS? This was like biology, Gravity Falls Edition.

Ford ran him a glass of water and let him rinse his mouth out before handing him a towel. "Are you alright?" he asked. Dipper nodded, swallowing down the rest of the glass of water.

"…Am now," Dipper replied, wiping his face. "…I don't know what that was…"

"None of the boys or Wendy are ill like that," Ford remarked. "But I need to know what EXACTLY happened, to make certain there are no detrimental effects."

Dipper nodded, starting to speak before sitting upright. "Wait, where's Mabel?!" he demanded. Ford put a calming hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, Dipper, she's spending the night at Candy's house," he said. "You know Mr. and Mrs. Chiu, they wont let those girls out of the house for anything after dark." He looked out the window, where the sun had set. "She's safe."

Dipper sighed, his body visibly deflating with relief. "…okay," he said. "I'm…I've gotta just lie down, I think…"

"You do that," Ford said, guiding Dipper out of his room and to the stairs. "I'll help Wendy with her brothers, you just make sure you're alright."

"Thanks, Grunkle Ford," Dipper replied, heading upstairs and into his room, shutting the door just enough to leave a crack open in case he was called, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He looked out the window, seeing the trees in the distance, his gut knotting up again from the experience, still remembering how stale and DEAD everything had smelled…

His hands shook as he reached out and grabbed the bottle of aftershave from the bedside table and held it close to him, clenching his eyes shut as he shakily inhaled the scent of pine oil and leather. In a rush of relief, his stomach unknotted itself and his shaking calmed. His shoulders slumped as he relaxed, quietly putting the bottle back on the table before laying down on his side, his energy fading with his brief moment of panic as his eyes slipped closed.

* * *

Candy and Grenda didn't mind at all when Mabel left the window open during sleepovers, nor did they question why she would curl up in front of it with whatever she could find. They were all a little quirky, so who were they to say anything?

So after the usual sleepover talk and activities, they decided to clock out at the respectable time of eleven-thirty, and Mabel made her way to the window, opening it before curling up under her pile of blankets and pillows. All three girls dozed off quickly to the sound of the cicadas and crickets outside.

 _Mabel was twelve years old again, running through the pitch-black woods, panting hard as she was pursued by something_. _It was old and FOUL, emitting a horrible stench of death as it followed._

 _She zigzagged through the trees in the hopes of losing it, pushing herself to run faster, run HARDER, make it home, make it to the Shack before it would catch her and kill her—_

 _Wait._

 _No._

 _This wasn't right._

 _Mabel skidded to a halt in the woods, clenching her hands into fists. She turned around, facing the creature as it loomed closer, the stench becoming stronger and more unbearable._

 _"YOU'RE NOT REAL!" Mabel shouted at it, stomping her foot. "I KNOW you're not real because Grunkle Stan said he'd NEVER let ANYTHING hurt me, EVER!"_

 _The creature slunk back into the woods, taking the foul stench with it. Mabel heaved a sigh, looking around her. "Grunkle Stan?" she queried. "Even if this isn't real…can you still come out? I mean…this IS my dream…"_

 _ **"Very astute, Shooting Star!"**_

 _Mabel tensed up, her fists clenching again when she heard a voice that had been absent for almost three years, looking up in the trees where the voice had come from._

 _Bill Cipher reclined back on a branch, twirling his cane with one finger._ _ **"Long time no see, kiddo!"**_ _he chirped, his pupil slitting as his eye honed in on her._ _ **"And nice job calling it out! Quite a bit of faith you have in old Fez, don't you?"**_

 _"What do you WANT, Bill?!" Mabel demanded, glowering up at him. "Because I'm fifteen, hormonal, and ready to throw more than kittens at you." She emphasized her point by punching her fist into her palm, a pink spiked gauntlet appearing on her hand. "Might as well put my kickboxing lessons to good use."_

 _ **"Yeesh, chill out would ya?"**_ _Bill retorted, rolling his eye._ _ **"Cant a triangle come visit one of his favorite humans?"**_ _He hovered off of the branch, but still out of reach._ _ **"You're just the only Pines with an open connection thanks to that stupid unicorn hair, and I'm admittedly very, very bored."**_ _He glanced around almost appreciatively._ _ **"Your Mindscape is pretty weird, though, I'll admit. Wouldn't peg THIS as your safe-haven, but then again, this IS where that abominable entity dwells…"**_ _He visibly cringed._

 _Mabel scowled, her eyes narrowing. "His NAME is Stanley Pines!" she snapped. "So don't you DARE—" She was cut off when Bill laughed hysterically. "WHAT?!"_

 _ **"You are SO incredibly naïve, Shooting Star!"**_ _he laughed, wiping a tear from his eyes._ _ **"Thinking he's still ANYTHING like you remember!"**_ _He loomed closer, resting his hands on his cane._ _ **"Hate to break it to you, Shooting Star, but he's more like ME than he is like YOU. He's a creature of pure energy. A mere CONCEPT, as part of a larger entity. Give it a couple more years, and he wont even have an individual identity anymore!"**_ _He snorted, seeing the angry tears in her eyes._ _ **"Aww, did you REALLY think your 'Grunkle Stan' would ALWAYS be here, just for you? Naïve little twit, you don't even know what he really IS!"**_

 _"SHUT UP!" Mabel shouted, her eyes blazing. "You're nothing but a LIAR, Bill! That's ALL you ever do! You LIE just to make people doubt themselves, just enough to get under their skin, but I'm NOT falling for it!" Her hand went to her neck, where the dream construct of the scarf Grunkle Stan had knitted was wrapped snugly. "He PROMISED me he'd ALWAYS be here to watch after me, and make sure NOBODY ever hurt me! And I TRUST him! I'd say find someone else to harass, but I wouldn't wish you on ANYONE!"_

 _Bill's eyes narrowed almost bemusedly, twirling his cane again._ _ **"Well, if you're SO sure about that, Shooting Star…I'm sure you wouldn't mind taking a stroll through the forest…with no moon."**_ _His pupil slitted almost hair-thin as the full moon in the dream-sky began waning until it vanished._

 _ **T̙͕H̸̗̙̜͉̖̯E̬̳͜N̝̞̥͔̠͙̣ ͉̱͚̼W͓̞̮̻ͅE̶͇̹͎͉̗͉̣'̘͎̥̜L̙͇͚̦̖̳͟L͎͈̗ ̖̮̙͉S̺͚E͍̟̭̬̦͙ͅE͇̥̮ ̩̭̣̯͡ͅH̳͓͙̬̜̙O͏̪̲̥͙̼Ẁ̤̝̖͚̻͎̲ ̛̦M̝̯̜̰̮̖UC҉̣͖̰̳H̯̜̝̘ ̖͓̱͎Y͎̬̜͉̫̠͚Ọ̱̣̖͉̞͙U͎̘̬͈ͅṞ͕̰͕͔͕͍ ̹͉̪̝͍̮͜ͅB̡̠̠͈E̵̩L̝̟̱͕̟͕O̖͝V͉̱ED̢̙͎̻̠̗ ̨̯G͏̭̞̳̼͎̮R͚͔̫U̧̝̖̖NͅK̞͢L͏̼E҉͔͓̣̯̲̥̜ ̣̮͝S̹̼͓̰T̸Ą̜̩͍͇N͙͕̦͖̺̝ͅ ͠L̡̹̣͔O̲̹͙̠̮̪͖̕V͈ES͖̼͜ ̴̥͎̻̲̙̰Y҉O͓̟͚̕U͓̖̻̬̟̮͎,͍͇͇̺ ̢͔͓̰W̨O̪̦N̪̥̩̳̪ͅT҉̣ ̶W̟͓͓̗̭E?̡̤͔̪̳**_

 _There was dead silence in the forest, and then countless eyes opened at once, invisible hands she could FEEL reaching out for her—_

Mabel jerked awake with a piercing scream, waking Candy and Grenda in a flash, who hurried over to check on her. Not thirty seconds later, Mrs. Chiu rushed in wondering what on earth the screaming was about. Mabel buried her face in her knees, shaking violently as her friends tried to comfort her.

It took some convincing to Mr. and Mrs. Chiu that it was just a really bad nightmare and that she didn't need to go home, and after some of Candy's odd-tasting but very effective calming iced tea, everyone settled back down to go back to sleep.

Mabel waited until her friends were asleep before creeping over to the window and sticking her head out, sniffling softly. "…He was lying, wasn't he, Grunkle Stan?" she whispered out into the air. "Please…please say he was lying…" She felt tears well up in her eyes again, and then a soft gust of wind blew by the window, carrying the scent of pine oil and leather with it. She let out a soft, wet laugh, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation before sighing.

"I knew it," she said. "Goodnight, Grunkle Stan." She slid back into her blanket pile, snuggling into a pillow before finally going back to sleep.

* * *

 _Stanley Pines stood on a tree limb at the border of the forest, looking over the fence and through the window at his sleeping grandniece, his waxing gibbous eyes narrowed darkly, his left hand clenching his cane tightly._

 _ **That THING violated her mind**_ _, he growled, the leaves of the tree quivering from his rage._ _ **It DARED to go near my family. I WONT STAND FOR IT!**_

 _The singular entity of One stood next to him, around him, everywhere._ _ **It is not a place We hold dominion**_ _, the One said._ _ **There is little you can do. In any case, there is a greater threat We must focus Our efforts into. The time of Black Moon approaches, and THEY are preparing to come forth.**_

 _ **…I know**_ _, Stanley replied, scowling._ _ **But don't think that bastard wont take advantage of it. I wouldn't be surprised if he's in cahoots with THEM. His first plan was shot to hell, so this is his only other option.**_

 _The One expressed a feeling of affirmation._ _ **This is true. But do not forget, it is not just the Pines who you should concern yourself with. All within the forest and outside of it in this area of the Convergence are in danger. Do not let your emotions get in the way of your mission.**_

 _Stanley's free hand braced into the trunk of the tree, his visage going from youthfully angry to old and weary._ _ **My emotions are all that connect me to my family**_ _, he replied._ _ **And I vowed to keep them safe. They are humans. They will pass in time. And when that happens, I will become part of the One.**_ _His visage became youthful and determined._ _ **But until then, my first vow, made from flesh and blood, stands before anything else. And You know that.**_

 _The One made a thoughtful expression._ _ **We do. But vows made by mortal tongues can turn you to a path of divergence from the One.**_

 _Stanley said nothing. He turned around and stepped off of the branch, landing slowly on the forest floor._ _ **Then I'll diverge**_ _, he said simply._ _ **But my family comes first.**_ _He walked off into the forest, vanishing in the darkness._


	5. Chapter 4

Ford and Dipper headed out early the following morning, but they hadn't even left the driveway before definitely sensing all was well. The birds were singing, there was a morning mist in the air, and everything smelled woodsy again. In fact, Dipper could feel an energizing perk to the air that usually only coffee could give him at this time of morning.

"Perhaps it was some new anomaly that escaped from a momentary tear in the dimension," Ford said, reading through a device that detected weak spots in dimensions. Gravity Falls was full of them, and each came with their own territories. "It happens sometimes."

Dipper nodded, only half-listening. "…This was just…awful," he replied, looking around at the trees. "It was like a blanket of sickness just washed over everything…made it CHANGE, like it wasn't even the same place anymore." He rubbed his arms, feeling a chill in the air even though the morning was humid and thick with life. "It's hard to explain…it just happened so fast, and then it was gone, probably overnight."

His great-uncle made a sound of contemplative interest. "I'm still no ruling out a momentary weak tear," he said. "It's happened before in my years here, so it stands to reason it'll keep happening…" He frowned. "But," he conceded, "what came through were generally some new form of flora or fauna…sometimes the odd crystal, or even once a new element that generated enough energy to power my lab for a thousand years…unfortunately, it breaks down into nothing if not contained, so I only had the tiniest bit of it left to make lightbulbs." He stepped into a clearing, glancing around. "…but nothing like what you and the Corduroys experienced. That sounded more like a plague."

Dipper shuddered. "It's what it FELT like," he said. "It wasn't just tiring me out…it…it was like…" His hands touched his abdomen. "…like I was DYING…not violently, but…going to sleep sick…"

Ford put a comforting hand on Dipper's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Any side-effects?" he asked, concerned. "You aren't still sick, are you?"

"No," Dipper replied, shaking his head. "It's just thinking about it…I'm freaking myself out, is all. I didn't even have bad dreams." He frowned, brow furrowed. Ford noticed.

"…what is it?" he asked.

"…I didn't have ANY dreams," Dipper answered, taking off his hat to scratch at his scalp. "…I don't recall ever NOT having dreams. I just…laid down, closed my eyes, and then woke up this morning. I ALWAYS have dreams."

Ford's jaw twitched as he ground his jaw in worry. "Tell me if it happens again tonight," he instructed. "I would hate if it caused any sort of minor brain damage. People need their dreams to function properly, even if they are bad."

Dipper nodded. "Alright," he replied, looking around again. "…I don't think whatever it was is here anymore. Everything's normal." Ford sighed, putting his device away into his coat pocket, having elected to wear his own clothing for this outing. Field work was just awkward in Stanley's clothing.

"Let's head home then," he said. "Mabel should be coming home at any time now."

"I just hope she's okay too," Dipper said quietly. "She picks up on stuff like this better than I do. I swear she can predict the weather and migration patterns of Gravity Falls better than anyone."

Ford smiled. "That she can," he agreed. "…She's…very adamant about taking over the Shack when she's older. As much as I want to discourage her throwing away a future doing something else, and possibly more productive…"

Dipper sighed. "I get it," he replied. "This place is her dream…she's got sketchbooks filled with drawings of the Shack, possible new attractions, additions to the actual house…her heart's set on Gravity Falls, no matter what."

"Well, there are two more years until graduation," Ford said. "I cant really say 'no' if she truly wants this still, by then." He smiled a little. "You still honing in on technical school?"

"I've got my sights on CIT as we speak," Dipper replied, grinning as he started talking about his upcoming campus tour next year. Ford smiled and nodded as he listened, glad Dipper had this distraction from the earlier terror.

* * *

Mabel was already home by the time they returned, sipping coffee and looking tired. "Hello, Mabel," Ford said, shrugging off his jacket. "You're home early." His brow furrowed slightly, seeing the slight dark circles under her eyes. "…Is everything alright?"

His niece shrugged a little. "Just had a rough night," she replied, rubbing the heel of her hand against her eye. "Sleepovers, you know?" She gave them a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and both men noticed.

"Well, it's Sunday," Ford said, getting himself a cup of coffee. "You can go catch up on your sleep if you want." He didn't miss the flicker of trouble in her eyes.

"…I think I'm fine, Grunkle Ford," she murmured before finishing her coffee. "I'm gonna go get some sketches of the waterfall and try to get my summer art project out of the way." She hurried upstairs to get her bag without another word.

Dipper chewed his lip, glancing at Ford. "…It's not just me," he said, "she's being weird, right?"

"WeirdER," Ford replied. "Perhaps she was not as unaffected by yesterday's incident as I thought…we'll have to ask her about it later…she'll only be clammed up now." He fetched the newspaper and sat back, looking through it as he sipped his coffee. Dipper sat down across from him, contemplating his own coffee and only looking on as Mabel hurried down the stairs and out the door.

He pushed the coffee aside and rested his head in his arms, feeling like he could have an extra doze himself.

* * *

Despite all of Grunkle Stan's thorough lessons, Mabel was still a horrible liar. Sure, she could hide truths like a champ, but fabricating it? Less so. Imagination be damned, it was just that squirmy feeling in her gut whenever she was telling a fib that came out in her voice and made it less convincing.

At least she was able to keep secrets, as long as no one asked about them. That's why she was so grateful that Grunkle Ford never asked if she knew anything about Grunkle Stan. God, if he asked if she knew, she didn't know what she would say, or how to react…

Mabel sat back against a large rock, not even sketching the waterfall as she told Dipper and Grunkle Ford, but rather her Grunkle Stan as she remembered seeing him last, in the point of view of a little twelve-year-old her opening her eyes and looking up at him from his arms. The familiar features of his strong jawline and love-softened expression were drawn out perfectly. She had even managed to capture the indistinct age she had witnessed. The man in the drawing could be either twenty-five or seventy years old at a first, second, or even tenth glance.

His eyes were as she remembered; soft crescent moons against the dark night sky. She knew that Grunkle Stan's eyes reflected the moon as it was in the sky on any given night, and sometimes longed to see them at full moon. She just knew they would glow with the cool comfort she'd come to know during nights in Gravity Falls.

At the same time, she could only shudder what they would look like during the new moon. Just the memory of her dream Bill managed to get into, of the entire forest coming alive, looking at her, reaching for her, wanting to drag her into the abyss and never let her go…

She jumped when she heard a soft snap, looking down and seeing that she had pressed her pencil so hard into the sketchpad the lead snapped right off. She sighed, putting it away and taking out another one from her case.

Although she received the comfort and confirmation of her Grunkle's love upon her request, Bill's words stuck to her mind like tar. Even Grunkle Stan told her to never come into the forest during the new moon…what was it that would make Bill so gleeful at her finding out, that would give Grunkle Stan reason to give her a serious warning?

The new moon, the night where there was no moon, where the light in Grunkle Stan's eyes would be nonexistent, leaving just black voids…

…what if Grunkle Stan wasn't Grunkle Stan during that time?

Ugh, as much as she was loathed to believe ANYTHING Bill Cipher would spew from whatever functioned as a mouth, he WOULD be the type to spit the truth when it was convenient to hurt someone.

Mabel rubbed her face, not caring if she smudged some lead onto her skin, sitting back hard against the rock as she side-eyed the forest to her left. A niggling feeling nudged in the back of her mind as a reminder of something…

…three years ago, Grunkle Stan promised her that at some point, he would tell her everything about what happened to him.

Her fingers clenched into the dirt, mulling over that option carefully. Yes, it was implied she could cash it in at any time, but it was ALSO implied that it would be the very last time she would get to REALLY talk to him, face-to-face. It wasn't a chance she wanted to waste. If possible, she wanted a whole night, a comfortable setting, and no regrets.

…so no. It wouldn't be tonight, tomorrow night, or any night soon.

But that didn't mean she would stop going with what she DID have right now.

Mabel quietly folded up the paper she had been drawing on, walking to the border of the forest and putting it under a rock. She would normally never condone littering, but every piece she put down—even if it was hidden—was always gone when she went to check later. She liked to think Grunkle Stan had them all, but she swore, if the gnomes got their grubby little hands on them, she'd drop-kick them right into Gremloblin territory!

She stepped away from the border, her eyes flickering quietly in the small wedges of space between the trees as was her habit, looking for a glimmer of him as she sometimes did manage to see. As was usually the case, she saw nothing. It was easier to find a glance in the evening or nighttime.

Mabel sighed, but gave the forest a smile anyway, turning and heading back to her drawing spot to gather up her things, bending down and suddenly pitching forward when she had a sudden dizzy spell.

Her instincts immediately told her something was wrong…the air just didn't FEEL right. It felt suffocating and thick, like the actual breath was being stolen from her body.

Mabel fumbled with her bag, groping around for her cell phone, fighting to stay conscious. By the time she did find it, her vision was swimming too violently for her to properly unlock her screen. The phone slipped from her hands, landing on the bag with Mabel following suit, going as silent as the rest of the clearing by the falls.

* * *

Dipper sat outside on the porch, flipping quietly through a book he was only half-paying attention to. The day was too muggy and still, the haze of a hot afternoon seeping into the air like a warning of worse heat to come. The weather channel had said the upcoming month would be record-high temperatures for the month, but even so, Dipper could only bear through it.

Maybe it was the fact that he was getting older and growing taller, but the Shack just seemed smaller now, and he couldn't handle being cooped up ANYWHERE. Weirdo teenage hormones, if ONLY he could have stayed twelve forever…

He was brought out of his musings with a frown when he heard loud flapping up ahead, looking up to see birds of several species flying out of the forest and up around the Shack, settling either on the house or close around it. That was…peculiar.

"…Grunkle Ford?" he called over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off of the birds. Ford stepped out of the house, looking around.

"What is it, Dipper?" he asked, though already noticing all the birds as well. "…What's going on?"

Dipper stood up slowly, his hands clenching into his book. "…They…just started coming out of the woods," he answered, feeling a coldness creep up his spine, hot weather be damned. "…they're not flying anywhere else, just coming HERE, like—"

"…like they know it's protected. Dipper, this might be a repeat of that incident yesterday." Ford ran back inside and into his room, tugging out a drawer and shoving several things aside. Dipper followed, about to ask what Ford was doing before going pale.

"Oh my god, MABEL!" He dashed for the door, barely making it off the porch before Ford managed to catch him and pull him back. "Grunkle Ford, Mabel's—"

"I know, Dipper!" Ford said, looking just as worried as Dipper felt. "But I'm not risking going out there without protection!" He held up what looked like three craft necklaces that Mabel would have made, the ropes of the necklaces twisted multicolored and wrapped around three opalescent stones.

"What is THAT?" Dipper asked, staring at them. Ford looped one of them around his neck before doing the same to Dipper.

"They're the same sort of protection that's around the Shack," Ford replied, keeping a hold on the third as he reached back inside and grabbed his jacket from the hanger. "The necklaces are unicorn hair, and the stones are moonstones, but instead of mercury, I soaked them in crystal cave water during a full moon." He tugged on his jacket, walking off the porch and past the border where some birds began settling, pausing to gauge his reactions. Nothing.

Dipper followed, noticing with a grimace that several birds didn't manage to make it to the barrier. "…So, these have the same protection as the Shack?" he asked, touching one of the moonstones.

"Yes," Ford replied, heading off. "But since they don't have the mercury to bind them, they need to be recharged every full moon. I meant to give these to you and Mabel as gifts, but I had no idea they would actually be NEEDED for something."

"Well, thanks for the awesome foresight," Dipper said, breaking into a run. "But we need to get that necklace to Mabel! She said she was at the waterfall!"

"Right." Ford nodded and ran with Dipper, not for the first time cursing his age. He shoved his complaints aside, keeping up with Dipper until they got to the clearing, feeling his heart skip a beat when he saw Mabel sprawled on the ground by her bag. "MABEL!"

Dipper sprinted ahead, dropping down beside her and turning her over. "Oh god oh god, Mabel…!" he stammered, feeling a rise of panic when he saw how pale she was. "MABEL!"

Ford knelt down next to Mabel, checking her pulse. "She's still alive," he said in a rush of relieved breath, taking out the third necklace and slipping it around her neck. "Come on, sweetie, wake up, you're alright now—"

Both boys jerked back when Mabel arched off the ground and screamed, her eyes flying open.

And for a brief second, Dipper and Ford saw golden irises and slitted pupils.


	6. Chapter 5

_Mabel could feel herself floating through a void, her whole body as fuzzy as her brain had been. Where was she? What was she doing here? She slowly opened her eyes, seeing what looked like a mass of forest with uprooted trees and plants floating around in nothingness, like the earth and sky became one._

 _'What am I doing here?' she thought to herself, unable to move or think properly. 'What was it I was doing?' It must not have been all that important, if she was almost content to just float here, like a leaf in a puddle._

 _She blinked slowly when the muddled void above—in front of?—her shimmered and a large golden eye opened, a slitted pupil honing in on her. She wanted to be afraid, but her mind was too fuzzy to register what fear really was. Mabel could only blink slowly as everything shimmered again and a triangle formed around the eye._

 _ **"Wow, you've had a number done on you, Shooting Star,"**_ _Bill's voice rumbled around her._ _ **"Didn't really expect THIS, but I'm not complaining."**_ _He reached out, plucking her out of the air and holding her like she was a doll in his hand. His eye gleamed with pleasure as he brought her up closer._ _ **"Just settle on back, I need to take your body for a joyride real quick. Don't worry. I'll give it back."**_

 _Mabel twitched in his hold, fighting to say something, to think clearly, as he held her against his front, his body absorbing Mabel into it. Mabel whimpered, struggling against him, feeling as though her head was being clawed into and wrenched open—_

 _And then it felt like her brain was on FIRE. She screamed, Bill screamed, and she felt the world explode._

Ford swore his heart stopped when Mabel screamed, but his soul practically left his body when he saw that flash of gold and slitted pupils in her eyes. It lasted only a second or two before she collapsed back and her eyes faded back to a dark hazel, but it still left a mark of panic in him.

Dipper recovered first, shaking her shoulders. "MABEL!" he shouted, close to tears. "Oh god, Mabel—"

Mabel jerked up, throwing her arms around him, trembling violently. Dipper hugged her back, his heart pounding with relief. The relief turned to indignation when Ford pulled Mabel from him and shone a penlight into her eyes. "Grunkle Ford, she's not—"

"I'm just making sure!" Ford snapped, his expression softening when he saw her pupils constricting to normal pinpricks. He put the penlight down and hugged Mabel. "I'm so sorry, Mabel…"

"'s okay," Mabel mumbled, leaning against him. "He was there….he was in my head…" She teared up, sniffling. "…he wanted to possess me…"

Ford tightened his hold around her, scowling. "Of course," he growled. He quietly picked her up, turning to Dipper. "We need to get back to the Shack, now," he stated. Dipper nodded, shoving Mabel's things back into her bag before hurrying alongside his great-uncle, thanking every god he knew the name of that they had found her when they did.

Mabel was back asleep by the time they got back, and the birds had dispersed. Barrier around his neck or not, Dipper definitely sensed a lightness to the air, but it did nothing to assuage his worry. As far as he was concerned, the damage was done, and it was to his sister. All he could think about was what if one of Wendy's brothers had fallen asleep? What if HE had fallen asleep?

It was obvious what Bill was trying to do; but why NOW? They hadn't seen or heard hide or hair if Bill for almost three years…

…come to think of it, he had broken contact around the same time Grunkle Stan had disappeared.

Dipper reached under the mattress of his bed and took out a notebook that was well-worn and thoroughly-read, flipping through it until he reached a section depicting theories on Stan's disappearance. One theory had a bracketed area with **'Bill had something to do with it (?)'** jotted down. Although the more he thought about it, the less likely it was, that realization brought him back to this.

Grunkle Stan disappears, and Bill's terrifying visits go with him. About three years later, these weird plague-like spells drop on sections of Gravity Falls, and Bill comes back, targeting his sister.

It was obvious what Bill wanted. The rift was still sealed tightly in Ford's lab, coated with enough alien adhesive so that a drop from the cliffs couldn't crack it, but it still wouldn't do to let it fall into anyone's hands. But why the hiatus? Why NOW? And WHAT was up with those weird plague-like spells in Gravity Falls?

It was all definitely connected somehow, but there was a bit piece missing from the puzzle.

UGH, this would be SO much easier if Grunkle Stan had just left a CLUE as to where he went!

Dipper heard Ford call him down for dinner, and stuffed the notebook back under his mattress. He could focus on this later. He absently wondered if he should ask Ford if he had any ideas to work with, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted was to tear open THAT old wound.

* * *

Ford quietly carried his thermos of coffee down to his study, already wondering if he should skive off tonight. He was emotionally drained after everything that had happened today, and knew it would take something stronger than Mabel's special blend of coffee to wake him up.

This had been upsetting, to say the least, he thought as he reached up and took out his fourth journal, opening it to a new page and clicking open a pen; but at least it had been somewhat informative.

Bill Cipher had been completely absent for almost three years, and then shows up in Mabel's mind as she was stuck out in the middle of one of those anomalies. She wasn't able to say much, only that he tried to take her over.

THAT was most concerning. For Bill to take over someone, the conditions had to be specific. He had to have permission, tricked into or not; or at least so Ford had thought. He knew Mabel would NEVER give Bill permission for ANYTHING, and yet he had witnessed it himself—Bill had almost succeeded in possessing Mabel. If he and Dipper had arrived mere SECONDS too late…

He didn't want to think about it, but it was important. This odd anomaly that was popping up at random provided Bill with the opportunity to possess ANYONE who was caught up in it. But why?

Ford revisited his idea that it was a 'blip' in the dimensions that provided a unique condition for Bill to possess someone against their will. It was most concerning to think that it could happen even to HIM. What if this anomaly cancelled out his extra precautions?

He fingered the string of unicorn hair around his neck, his expression grim. At least he knew this line of defense worked. It obviously forced Bill out of Mabel's mind, and made everyone immune to the effects of this anomaly. But he could hardly make these for EVERY citizen of Gravity Falls. It was hard enough wresting down the unicorn to get the hair for THESE as it was.

Ford sighed, slipping it off and checking it to make sure the stones weren't coming loose. He'd have to recharge these next full moon, and he hadn't really tested how far the protections went before it ran out, but he didn't want the kids to find out the hard way. In any case, the protections around the Shack were holding, and Ford was glad for it.

He took a swig from his thermos, settling in to focus on adding in another piece to this mystery.

* * *

 _Stan Pines pressed his fingers to his lips before touching the button pad of the vending machine, then quietly headed out of the Shack, walking fearlessly into the dark forest._

 _He walked with his eyes straight ahead, not having to look around, not having any obstacle in his path despite the near-complete darkness that came with no moon to illuminate his path. He kept walking without stopping, the forest deafeningly quiet with no audible sign of life, but the air thrummed with energy, bringing back a state of body he hadn't felt since he was barely an adult, making his trek easier._

 _He stopped before a clearing, which at visual glance seemed harmless, but every instinct in his body told him that this was a point of no return. The air became still, as though time had stopped, just for a moment, and Stan let out a soft breath, his resolution firm and soul at ease._

 _"….I'm here to pay my debt," he announced to the darkness of the clearing. There was a sharp prickle not unlike static running through the air, and a surge of energy that came forth from the clearing—_

Ford jerked awake, throwing his hands out in front of him as though to catch something before it fell. "STANLEY!" he screamed, swiping the air when there was nothing to catch, and almost tipping back his chair. He found balance, pressing his hand to the desk, and spent several minutes heaving with sobs and shaking, frightened and emotional out of his wits.

Finally, he was able to calm down enough to get his thoughts in order, and remembered with clear recollection of what he had dreamed about.

Stanley. He had dreamed about Stanley.

It wasn't the usual sort of dream he would have about his twin. Normally, the dreams would be of the past, of better times, of could-have-beens…sometimes even less than good things, but still nothing like this.

This dream was something he'd never personally experienced. This dream was Stanley, not him. Stanley had been so close, Ford could feel the presence of someone close to him, he could smell the pine oil and leather, he could HEAR Stanley's voice…

He'd heard his brother's voice for the first time in three years, from what wasn't a video recording. It was a memory….but not one of HIS. It was like a first-person memory from—

…Stanley. He'd seen and felt through STANLEY.

Ford's body went hot and cold at the same time, feeling like he was going to vomit from the gamut of emotions flashing through his system. His hand was gripping at his shirt right over his heart, a place that normally, for the past three years, had felt like there was a hole, right where half his heart used to be. Now it felt fuller, even by this minor modicum.

Both hands lifted to his face, shaking hard as he pressed them to his mouth, not knowing if he should feel outstanding joy or terror of the unknown.

This couldn't be a coincidence. Strangeness was happening, and he could FEEL his brother again.

And the worst part was, in the rational part of his mind, he couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

* * *

Dipper stared up at the ceiling, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eyes, unable to sleep. Not even the usual comforting lull of the open bottle of aftershave on the bedside table was working, not tonight. He supposed he was still too shaken up over what almost happened to Mabel to sleep, even though he knew she was safe in the Shack. Still, the fact that it ALMOST happened, seeing those horrible yellow slitted eyes again, filled him with a dread he had all but forgotten almost three years ago.

Bill Cipher was back, and had almost taken over his sister's body. No amount of 'got there in time' or 'coulda-woulda-shoulda' was going to change that. For Bill to go into someone's mind, he either had to be invited, or be sent in. And for the life of him, Dipper couldn't think of ANY reason why Mabel would invite Bill in, or anyone who would want to send Bill in.

It only meant that these strange plague-like anomalies were giving Bill access into places he normally didn't have before.

The gears began turning in Dipper's brain, putting together little pieces of the seemingly-unrelated puzzles. Grunkle Ford mentioned that these anomalies could be coming from 'blip' tears in dimensions. During these 'blips', could it be possible that Bill used them to 'jump' dimensions where he normally couldn't go without a contracted source?

The very thought made Dipper shudder, and just made closing his eyes that much more difficult.

After glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time, Dipper sighed and clicked on the bedside table lamp, picking up the book he had been trying to read earlier, and turning to the dog-eared page where he left off. If he wasn't going to sleep, he certainly wasn't going to be unproductive about it.

* * *

 _Stanley Pines glowered out from the border of the forest, teeth bared and lips pulled back into a feral snarl as he struggled against the invisible barrier that kept him back just behind the clearing. The wind kicked up in an almost violent gale, snapping branches and permeating the air with the scent of pine oil and leather. The wind itself howled out his rage, ghostlike and terrifying to those awake at this hour to hear it._

 _Across the clearing, a lone figure crossed the property up to the Mystery Shack, taking up a large rock and measuring out their aim before tossing it, the rock snapping out a section of the back porch, right where the unicorn hair was glued on. The wards flickered from the damage done to the line before a large crack appeared in it._

 _The figure stepped back, turning their head to the border of the forest and gave the darkness a snide, condescending smirk, golden, slitted eyes laughing cruelly before closing, the figure dropping to the ground unconscious. A few minutes later, the person sat up and rubbed their head, looking around in a daze before hurrying off into the night, looking terrified and confused._

 _Back in the woods, Stanley Pines let out another howl that promised wrathful agony to the demented dream demon Bill Cipher before vanishing in the darkness._

 _And all was quiet again._


	7. Chapter 6

_**...Mabel…**_

Mabel turned around in her sleep, whimpering softly. There was a tickle in her mind, something she was not unused to, but was now wary of. Other presences in her mind were frightening and unknown, clashing horribly with her own thoughts and dreams.

In her dream, she was walking around the forest at night, but there was no real darkness. The moon was large and full, the stars were shining, and various fairies and other creatures glowed softly, illuminating the forest perfectly for her as she walked. Although this forest was beautiful, it was still much too quiet and lonely for her.

 _ **…Mabel…**_

She paused, looking around the forest when she heard a voice again. She rubbed her arms, frowning, still trying to shake off the feeling of having Bill Cipher almost completely take over her mind. It was horrible and intrusive, and it put her on edge, even in this Mindscape that was completely her. She was safe in the Shack, and the necklace Grunkle Ford gave her was around her neck.

 _ **…Mabel…!**_

So then why was this voice feeling like an outside invasion?

Mabel covered her ears with her hands, whimpering. "No more…!" she murmured, shaking. "Please, don't…!"

 _ **…Mabel, sweetie…!**_

"Grunkle Stan!"

Mabel jerked awake in an instant, almost tripping on her blankets hurrying out of bed to scramble to the window, throwing it open and looking around wildly. "Grunkle Stan?" she called out to the darkness. A gust of wind kicked up near the Shack, bringing with it the scent of pine oil and leather, making her heart race. "Grunkle Stan?"

 _ **…Mabel…**_

The wind carried a faint whisper of a voice up to her, and she looked in the direction the wind was coming from, seeing two faint glows in the darkness. Her eyes flicked up, seeing the waxing gibbous moon peeking out from behind the clouds, and without a second through, she grabbed a sweater from off the floor and tugged it on, slipping out the window and edging down along the slanted roof tiles before jumping off the edge, landing neatly on the ground and hurrying for the border of the woods.

"Grunkle Stan?" she called in a loud whisper, flicking her eyes around for some sign of him, her hand sliding to the pocket of her sweater. "It had BETTER be you, or someone's about to get a face full of attack glitter—"

 **Mabel**

Mabel paused, seeing two soft glows appear in front of her before the image of her Grunkle Stan followed, exactly as she recalled seeing him almost three years ago. And just like almost three years ago, the various reactions she could possibly have were narrowed down to tearing up. At least she didn't bawl her eyes out this time, she thought as she stepped out of the property clearing and into his arms.

She could actually reach his shoulder now, she absently thought as she buried her face into it, noticing that he now felt more solid and more REAL in her hold, like he was really there again. Only the ethereal sparking of energy around his form and the moons she knew were in his eyes betrayed the illusion. He was a projected concept of his existence, he'd said so himself.

"I missed you," she murmured, tightening her hold around him. He did the same, petting her head affectionately.

 _ **I know**_ he replied, feeling a sharp twinge of emotion in his soul. _Regret._ _Pain. Sadness. Love._ _**Mabel, sweetie…**_ He leaned back, holding her shoulders, his expression serious. _**As much as I would love to say this is a casual visit…**_

"You know what's going on," Mabel finished, reaching up and wiping her tears. "And…you just came here to tell me." She stared at his tie instead of his eyes, not wanting her emotions to get the better of her. She had to be a grown-up about this. "…what do you need me to do?"

Stan frowned, squeezing her shoulders. _**Mabel, it's not just this anomaly that makes me want to see you**_ , he replied softly. _**You know that, sweetie. If things wouldn't get out of hand, I'd show myself to Ford and Dipper every night. But they're nowhere near ready to see me…to know what happened without involving themselves in it.**_ He brushed the tears from her face, lifting her chin so she would look at him.

 _ **And I don't want you wasting your youth missing me all that much. But something's going on here now, and you and the rest of Gravity Falls are in a lot of danger.**_

Mabel nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out, getting a grip. "I know," she replied. "….Bill…he…"

 _ **If he was anywhere NEAR the forest at that time, I would've torn him to pieces!**_ Stan growled with conviction, the very forest shuddering at his anger before his expression softened, morose. _**I promised I would protect you, and look what happened…**_

"Grunkle Stan, that wasn't your fault!" Mabel exclaimed. "I don't know how he managed to, or HOW, but—"

 _ **I do**_ , Stan cut in, scowling. _**Walk with me**_. He turned and walked into the forest, Mabel walking next to him, holding his arm tightly as though afraid he'd disappear if she didn't.

Their stroll was silent for a few moments, but it seemed timeless. The forest was still around them, illuminated by the pale partial moon in the sky and an ethereal light from Stan, the air warm, and not a single threatening sense coming their way. Mabel looked around at the still darkness, feeling not a single twinge of fear.

 _ **Something is coming this summer, Mabel**_ , Stan said quietly, his voice solemn. _**It's already started showing signs…and you've felt it.**_

Mabel shuddered, recalling that horrible feeling from earlier, like all the life and energy was being drawn from her. "…what is it?" she asked, tightening her hold on his arm.

 _ **Evil**_ , Stan replied. _**Plain and simple.**_ He continued the trek in silence for a few seconds. _**Remember that creature that chased you, three years ago?**_

Mabel swallowed, nodding. "I remember."

 _ **It was once a man like I was. But he was drawn in during what's known as a Black Moon.**_ He glanced skyward, the twin waning gibbous moons in his eyes flickering. _**A second full moon in a month is a Blue Moon…a second new moon in a month is a Black Moon…and it's a time for evil. The man ventured in here during a Black Moon, and while he was…taken…something else affected him. He kept himself, but it twisted him into something disgusting and perverse.**_

He looked at Mabel, his expression apologetic, but for what, Mabel didn't know. _**If I hadn't been here, Mabel, it would have done…unspeakable things to you. To your body AND your soul.**_ His expression went beastlike for a moment. _**It goes after children, mostly…but it'll take the odd unprotected adult if it gets desperate enough.**_ He reached up, laying his hand over hers, squeezing lightly.

 _ **Mabel, imagine that creature, but NOT bound to the borders of the forest, and en masse. THAT is what will be trying to come out the next Black Moon.**_

Mabel felt a wave of nauseous cold in her gut, her body shaking. "…When…is the next Black Moon?" she asked weakly.

 _ **In August.**_

"…Right before our birthday," Mabel surmised. Stan nodded. "…But…it's been stopped before, right? What makes THIS so dangerous?"

Stan scowled, his eyes flashing. _**It has help this time**_ , he growled. _**A bigger way through, one not confined to the forest. Bill Cipher and the Rift.**_

Mabel felt her head throb just at just the memory of having that despicable demon in her head. "…that's how he was able to get into my head, right…?" she said.

 _ **Yes. While the cracks in the dimension happen in the forest, its effects can spread outward, to a lesser effect. You were near enough to the forest to be affected. It's not just your energy it takes…it's your very life force. That entity behind the dimensional barrier would take your very life and add it to its collective of tortured masses, and keep devouring all life, just as it's done for many other worlds.**_

Mabel shuddered hard at the very idea, burying her face into his shoulder. "…You…you can stop it, right?" she murmured, feeling twelve years old and very, very small again. "…that's what you and…and that other entity do, right?"

Stan sighed, curling his arm around her quietly. _**We can only do so much, sweetie. For all intents and purposes, we technically don't fully exist in this dimension. Remember what I told you before? Think of…this place as where you are when you're awake…and the other dimension as where you are when you sleep. I'm the projection of where you are between asleep and awake.**_

He frowned, glancing into the darkness. _**As I am now, I'm not much different than Bill Cipher in the Mindscape. I can interact here…I can speak with you, hold you, and perform small feats…but I cant fully function here, just like him.**_ He looked around at everything. _**Gravity Falls is one bit weak spot in our dimension, where it's easy for tears to other dimensions to occur. My entity has existed far longer than any of the others, and derives a symbiotic give-and-take relationship with this dimension…so naturally, it's in Our best interest to keep it safe from other entities that would destroy it…do you understand?**_

Mabel bit her lip hard, nodding slowly. "…I do," she replied quietly. "You can keep the tears in the dimension at bay…but if Bill gets the Rift…"

 _ **Then there's nothing we can do to stop him, or that evil entity from coming through without barriers, and without anyone or anything that can stop them from doing what it's done to countless other universes. The tear to Bill's dimension would only dissolve what little protection there is keeping all the other dimensions at bay. It would create a domino effect that would collapse Gravity Falls in on itself, and then Oregon, the US, and eventually, the planet and the universe itself.**_

"…It all seems so…fragile…" Mabel marveled, her eyes wide. "…All this time…we've always been held together with string and duct tape…all in Gravity Falls…"

 _ **And you can see WHY I want Ford to remain as ignorant as possible**_ , Stan added. _**I've already done so much damage by restarting the portal. He figured it would destroy the universe…but he still doesn't know just how fragile the weak point in the universe is. I would never want to burden him with that knowledge…to make him feel guiltier than he already feels, when it was my fault.**_

"…You didn't know either, Grunkle Stan," Mabel put in. "So don't you feel guilty." She leaned against him. "Just tell me what I can do to help."

Stan smiled, petting her head. _**You're a good kid, Mabel**_ , he replied. _**Too good for this world, I sometimes think.**_ He drew back, turning to look at her seriously. _**Back at the Shack, Bill possessed someone and damaged the barrier. I need you to repair it, and keep a close watch on it until the Black Moon is over.**_

"What?!" Mabel yelped. "Why didn't you say so in the first place!?" She grabbed his arm, bolting back through the woods. Stan followed, partially amused.

 _ **He cant hear us in here**_ , he answered. _**And I was actually enjoying our time together.**_

Mabel almost skidded to a halt, lowering her head guiltily. "…oh…" she replied, dropping her hand from his arm. Her hands clenched tightly, her eyes tearing up. This WAS the first time she'd really seen him, the first time she'd been with him in almost three years. To her shame, it had never occurred to her that he had been missing her as much as she'd missed him.

The feeling of being so young and small returned, reopening up the same raw feelings she had when he first left, her hands pressing against her mouth as every old emotion began to spring anew.

 _ **…Oh Mabel, no…**_ Stan curled his arms around her, hugging her tightly, regretting that teasing jape. _**I didn't mean it like that, Mabel…you know I didn't. I was just teasing.**_

Mabel buried her face into his shoulder, crying harder. It only made it worse then. It had been so long since she'd been around him she couldn't even tell when he was joking or not. God, she thought she was OVER this part already! And what if he thought this was going to be the standard reaction every time he showed himself? She'd never see him again…!

 _ **Stop that, Mabel**_ , Stan said firmly. _**Stop those thoughts right now**_. He lifted her head, looking her in the eye, his own expression looking as pained as she felt. _**I wont have you tearing yourself up like this. The only thing you were right about was that you were over this. You're stronger now…you're stronger than Ford or Dipper, and you hold them together by BEING strong.**_

He kissed her forehead, the action feeling like the faintest breeze on a summer day. _**Sweetie, I promised you a REAL visit, without me having to rescue you, without you having to rescue everyone else. This wasn't cashing it in at all.**_ He thumbed her tears off her face, giving her a smile. _**I know all I'm asking you to do is unfair…but I'm asking you to just hold onto your promise a little longer…alright?**_

Mabel sniffled, nodding. "'m sorry, Grunkle Stan," she said. "I just…I'm just…tired…"

 _ **I know.**_ He took her arm, walking with her in silence back to the border of the forest, the Mystery Shack settled silently in the clearing. _**…I've always been here, Mabel**_ , he said suddenly, getting her attention. _**Every story you told, every grievance you vented…I listened to all of it.**_ He smiled at her, his eyes gleaming. _**But you'd better go to college before you take over the Shack, little lady, or I'll make things pretty crazy for you here.**_

Mabel giggled, wiping at her face. "Deal," she replied, kissing his cheek before stepping into the clearing. "But that doesn't mean I wont go for awhile, get bored, and drop out! It still counts if I'm enrolled!"

 _ **And so the student becomes the master**_ , Stan said, putting a hand on his chest. _**My proudest moment.**_ He gave her a wave. _**The damage is done near the back porch. It shouldn't be too much to fix. If you need more unicorn hair…I'll arrange something. The Pines have sort of been blacklisted from the unicorn realm by this point.**_

"Figures," Mabel replied, rolling her eyes before smiling at him sadly. "…Until next time, I guess. Goodbye, Grunkle Stan."

 _ **Goodbye, Mabel.**_ Stan's form vanished, the silvery glow of his eyes the last thing remaining before they too vanished in the darkness.

Mabel sighed, hurrying up to the house before she could give herself time to feel bad again, looking over the porch before finding a large splintered dent in the wood, right where the unicorn hair had been glued. She nibbled her lip worriedly; the dent would have to be managed before anything else, if the unicorn hair was to stay in place. A quick fix-it would have to suffice for now.

To compensate for the frayed pieces, Mabel unlatched her own necklace, cutting off a few inches with the small pocket knife she kept on her before tying the ends to the edges of hair on either side of the dent. The unicorn hair began shimmering before a faint, transparent curtain appeared around the Shack and vanished.

That would have to make due for now, she thought as she retied the necklace, this time it being more of a choker than an actual necklace, but still hopefully doing the job right. She glanced back at the dark forest for a moment, giving it a wave before going to the door…and finding it locked.

Oh. Right. She'd used the window. Brilliant.

* * *

 _As Mabel scaled the Shack to get back to her bedroom window, something else entirely surveyed from another dimension, looking a mix of miffed and reluctantly smug._

 _ **"Oh real mature, Fez,"**_ _Bill sniped, snorting._ _ **"Getting desperate there, if you're getting help from THEM to keep me out. But I've already planted MY seed in your little pine forest. Good luck weeding it out."**_


End file.
